Erotogenesis
by The Paperback Righter
Summary: One-shot. In the darkness, Britta and Jeff express their love for each other.


Even in the pitch-black darkness, Britta can tell Jeff is there.

His feet make no noise on the carpeted floor, but she can feel him approaching from behind her. In anticipation, she brings her bare legs up from where they dangle over the edge of her mattress, instead tucking them under the welcoming warmth of the scrunched-up bedclothes. His arrival is heralded by a slight creaking as he climbs onto the bed behind her, and she feels a rush of warm air as his breath meets her neck. His hands come to rest either side of her, causing the mattress to dip a little, and she lets her arms, previously wrapped around her own shivering frame, drop. As her hands meet the soft, freshly-washed sheets, his fingers wander inward and slide neatly between hers. His palms, laying over her hands, are warm, and the contrast with her own skin temperature sends a shudder through her body. She does not resist as his hands move hers, bringing them to sit atop her naked thighs. His arms have now come to rub gently against her sides, nestling her body in the crook of his elbows. She relaxes her body, allowing herself to slump slightly into his waiting chest. There is a moment's touch of his lips to her neck before he pulls away. His breath makes its way up, breezing through a loose strand of hair before reaching her ear.

"Not yet," he whispers.

Immediately his left hand clenches, wrenching her arm up and wrapping it over her chest. The sudden movement pulls her further into his embrace, closing the slight gap between their bodies. The skin on her back lights up with a sudden burst of body heat radiating from him. She finds her right hand released from his, although his grip on her keeps the arm pinned to her side. His hand, now free, begins to explore her stomach: at times, it simply caresses her; at others, she feels the slight rake of his nails. Her skin whitens where he scrapes, but color returns almost immediately, leaving no trace of his touch.

The hand wanders further north, and her breath catches in her throat. She opens her mouth to protest, hoping to take back some control despite her immobilization, but as she does she feels his lips on her neck and she knows she can't stop him. She holds her breath for an eternity, awaiting the inevitable. He loves to taunt her with it. Eventually she feels the familiar, wonderful sensation of his teeth on her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her every few seconds. He moves toward where her neck meets her shoulder, and gently bites down. A small, high-pitched whimper escapes her throat. She wiggles her shoulder as slightly as she can, and feels a tug from the sliver of skin trapped in his mouth. She exhales slowly, trying the calm the heart now beating desperately out of her chest. He opens his mouth, releasing the sore, reddened skin, and plants a brief kiss on it. She shudders again.

His grip on her loosens and she finds herself slipping down until she is lying flat on her back. She frees her legs from their fabric prison, and they catapult back into the dead cold of the open air, flopping over the side of the bed again. She takes a moment to calm herself, bringing her frantic breathing down to a more regular rate, but before she can recover her is there again, his massive body dwarfing hers as he clambers on top of her. Her legs are lost to her, and his hands close around her wrists, pinning her to the bed beneath him. He leans over her, once again pressing their bodies together. She can feel his breath washing over her face, and automatically adjusts to inhale as he exhales. For a second they are frozen, and then their lips meet. She can barely appreciate the moment before he pulls away, leaving her unsatisfied. His hand leaves her wrist, although she leaves her arm where it is as he begins stroking her hair, carefully brushing it off of her face. He lowers his head again and softly kisses her neck. She runs her tongue around her own mouth.

"On the lips."

Her voice is dry and barely audible, but he knows what she wants. His lips once again touch hers, and she now moves her free hand, digging her fingers into his hair as she grasps his head. He forces his tongue into her mouth; she fights back briefly, but after a moment of token resistance she allows him to take over, his tongue pushing its way into every corner. One of his hands is massaging her naked breast, and she moans. But all too soon, he pulls back. Their eyes are fixed on each other, despite the darkness, as they both try to catch their breath. Her hand has left his hair and instead runs down his chest.

"Jeff..."

She can barely make the sound of his name, but he catches it anyway: he is expecting it. His hand clasps hers, gently this time, and he raises it to his lips, kissing it. He smiles.

"I love you, Annie."

* * *

Britta's eyes remain tightly shut, but she is awake now. Her frantic hand rests on her own chest, and she takes a long, slow breath to calm herself. A minute passes before she reaches down to retrieve the bedclothes she had so hastily kicked away and settles down to sleep again.


End file.
